


Away from Home

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-23
Updated: 2004-12-19
Packaged: 2018-12-27 11:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12080595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin goes to Hollywood for the Rage movie! How does Brian feel about that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

This is a long overdue re-entry back into the world of ff! Please note, I haven’t actually seen the last 7 eps. for S4 QaF. All this is based off of recaps.

* * *

“I’ll call everyday.” The blonde said packing an overstuffed suitcase.

“Uh-huh.” The older man said, taking a drag of a cigarette, looking up at the ceiling from his bed.

“And email, of course.” The younger man continued folding his clothes.

“Oh-k.” The brunette said nonchalantly, letting out a puff of smoke. 

“And I’ll come back for a week in 6 months. You probably won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Alright.”

“Brian, are you even paying attention?”

“Call, email, 6 months.” He said, always aloof. Except he wasn’t. His world was crashing down. He wasn’t calm, or aloof or any other word that means cold, heartless and detached. He cared so much his heart ached, and it made him sick. Brian never asked for this whirlwind blonde to storm into his life, leaving him breathless, always wanting more. But he did.

Brian was never able to explain the effect this 12 years his junior, man had on him. He just knew it was incredible. 

He used to deny it. Used to say it was just the fucking that did it for him. And now what could he say? After Justin left with Ethan, Brian did miss him, and that scared him. But it was before that, that Brian realized he wanted this kid, this man, and not just for sex. 

The night of Justin’s prom. When he saw this beautiful boy’s face light up, because of him. It had to be the best high he had ever felt, and drugs or sex hadn’t cause it. It was because he, _brianfuckingkinney_ made Justin Taylor’s entire world light up, even if it was for a brief moment. 

During the three days Brian stayed in the hospital, not knowing whether Justin would live or die, Brian thought about that face, what he felt about it. How he would feel if he never got to see it again. He knew something inside him had changed. 

It wasn’t until post-Ethan that Brian knew what had changed. He didn’t only want to see Justin’s face light up again, he wanted to be the reason again. Brian Kinney wanted to make someone _else_ happy. 

So he made the effort. He took Justin back, not just because he was a great fuck, more like the best fuck he’d ever had, not just because he was convenient, not because he was a pretty twink to keep around and look at. But because Brian wanted him back! Really. Truly. With all his formerly icy heart. Brian wanted Justin Taylor to be his partner.

And now this. Justin was going off to LA, to make a movie, for 1 year, instead of accepting Brian’s offer to share a home together. 

Brian wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He was so sure in his decision to have Justin come live with him, he never thought about what would happen if Justin had other plans.

Justin assured him that when he came back, he would live with Brian. As for the time he was not in the Pitts, Justin would leave some of his possessions at the loft, and come back in 6 months for a week. And keep in contact everyday, and Brian was always welcome in LA. 

But of course, Brian knew that wouldn’t be how it worked out. Justin would get to busy to call everyday, and Brian could never call him just to talk, because no matter how much he knew he had changed, he was still Brian Kinney, for fuck’s sake. 

“You’re flight leaves in 3 hours. We’d better go to the airport.” Brian said, lifting himself off the bed. Justin grabbed his arm as Brian went to get his coat.

“Tell me it’ll be ok.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Brian asked, softer than the words should have been.

“Tell me that one year won’t change anything. That when I come back, it’ll be the same. I can just come back, and you’ll hold me and fuck me and that’ll be the end of that. We’ll be ready to start a new life, you and me.” Justin said, almost pleadingly.

“I can’t tell you that…bec-…I don’t know what will happen.” Brian sighed, and the knot in his stomach tightened.

He knew he couldn’t ask Justin to stay. No matter how much he wanted to get down on his hands and knees and beg this beautiful man, not to leave him. Brian couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be selfish. He knew that if he happened to casually say, “You know, maybe this going to LA thing doesn’t sound like such a good idea.” Justin would drop his bags and stay in Pittsburgh with Brian. 

But when Justin told him he would be going to LA, Brian bit his tongue, and told him to go and that Justin would be the biggest fucking success the world had ever seen. Because that’s what Justin deserved. He deserved to be the best. Fuck. He is the best, and Brian knew it. And now it’s time for the rest of the world to know it too.

They rode to the airport in silence. Justin stared at Brian, soaking in as much of the man that he could before he would never see that face in real life for six months. Justin knew Brian wouldn’t come out to LA. Not even if Justin asked him to and paid for the flight himself. So he had to take what he could, like he always did. 

They checked Justin’s bags in and grabbed 2 latte’s at Starbucks.

At the security check Justin held back his tears.

Brian’s stomach tightened just a little more. Here it was. Time to say goodbye. Except he wouldn’t.

“See you in six months.” Justin said with a slight smile and a kiss.

Brian nodded and watched the blonde head walk through the metal detectors. Once he was sure Justin had reached the other side, he pulled out his cell phone and pushed #1 on speed dial.

“Hello?” The artist answered.

“So what are you doing in 3 months?”

Ok. So maybe Brian could be a little selfish, sometimes.


	2. Away from Home

It was harder than I thought. It’s been exactly one month and I miss him. I miss the fucking, I miss his smile, hell, and I even miss his shit lying all around the loft. 

We talk on the phone, have some occasional phone sex. He did email me everyday at first, but like I expected, he started to get too busy to do it anymore. 

I tried to stay busy. Bury myself in work, and trust me when I say it was easier than anything else, to do that. But the void of Justin was still there. It felt empty coming home to the loft and not hear the stroke of his paintbrush on a canvas, or pencil against paper, or the aroma of the kitchen after he spent time making us dinner.

I’m starting to feel like a total faggot. Brian Kinney didn’t do love, or loss or any of that other hetero bullshit. And that’s exactly what’s happening. 

But strangely, it’s the last thing on my mind. I just miss him. 

So I’m sitting here at my overly priced computer, staring at the computer screen, deciding if I should tell him that I miss him. Should I let him in on how I really feel?

I opt for no and just write, “Things are fabulous. Works busy. See anyone famous? C/M.”

I waited for a reply, and I got one. _Two days Later._ It said “Things here are amazing. Yesterday I saw David Boreanaz! He looks better in person and is totally hot! I’ll try to call later. Really busy. Gtg, we’re working on the costume design for Zephyr. –Justin.”

I wanted to talk to him. Email is bullshit when you’re used to seeing and hearing a person everyday, and you’re missing them terribly. And I don’t mean “terribly” a lot, I mean it’s terrible that **I** am doing the missing.

‘Why don’t you just call him Kinney, and stop being a pussy?’

I knew why I couldn’t. Because I’m a stubborn asshole, that’s why. 

I went to the diner, without replying to his email. He made me wait 2 days, I’ll make him wait.

Debbie and Ben were there. I sat at the booth with the good Professor who was reading something, don’t know what it was, don’t really care, but I asked.

“It’s the art from the new issue of Rage, Justin sent it to Michael this morning.” Ben replied.

“How’s it look?” I asked, hoping to catch a glimpse at Justin’s work.

“It’s…great! I think LA has improved his art or something, because that’s what it is, Art! The movie must really be inspiring for him.”

Yeah that’s the good Professor, always willing to kick you in the gut right when you need it least. Speaking of a kick in the gut…

“Hey Honey. What can I get ya?” Debbie asked.

“Coffee. Black.” I mumbled.

“What’s up your ass?”

I raised my eyebrow at her, giving her my best “Brian Kinney, smart ass” look.

“Lemme rephrase, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. If you miss Sunshine sweetie, why don’t you call him?”

How does she always know? I’ve always wondered how Debbie knew exactly what was on my mind when I least wanted her to.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m in a hurry Deb, can I get my coffee?”

Debbie raised her hands to sign defeat and walked off.

Ben never looked up from the storyboards, so I thought it best to interject some remark, “I know the boys good Professor, but the pretty pictures haven’t changed in the last 15 minutes.”

“Hmmm?” Ben said, still staring at the boards.

I huffed and took the board out of his hands.

I looked at the drawing and was really…. amazed. I understood why the Professor kept staring at them. Something was different. The story was still the same, Fags saving the world, working, looking great and still have time to fuck. Art imitating _my_ life. But what was different? I couldn’t place it. 

Could it be the new character that was threatening to destroy Gayopolis? Or was it the difference in Rage and JT? JT…he had his own life now. Rage was on the back burner it seemed. No longer there to give JT…well anything, not even protection.

That’s a little to close to life.

Fuck this. Brian Kinney doesn’t sit on the backburner for anyone, not even a pretty little blonde boy. Something’s going to be done.


	3. Away from Home

Thanks to **Orton** for acting as beta and helping me w/ my writer’s block!

* * *

Thankfully it only took until I reached the loft to reach my fucking senses instead of calling Justin and yelling at him for getting a life without me…. I realized that I was acting like Emmett, a total drama queen.

How pathetic was it for me, Brian Kinney, to be mad about someone ignoring me…Even if it was a certain blonde twink.

Still, I thought it best to do something. I just wasn’t sure what. 

I decided to email him back. Give him more to respond to.

_Gus is starting a new pre-school and he’s excited. The Munchers are going crazy! Michael is acting like a fag with the new baby, “oooing” and “awwwing.”_  
Landed the Tallis account, I was fucking fabulous, as always. Saw your new art for Rage. It’s good. C/M   
-B 

‘This relationship stuff is bullshit.’ I thought as I closed the window off the computer.

Ten minutes later the phone rang.

“Why don’t you just call?” was the first thing out of his mouth.

“Busy.” I responded.

“Bullshit.”

“I know.”

Justin laughed over the phone, “So is Gus excited about his new school?”

“I said he was didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Justin sighed, “I wish I was there to see the baby. I talked to Ben earlier, he said she’s getting so big already.”

“She looks just like Mikey and Mel, which one would think is a scary thought, but it’s not that bad. She’s kinda…oh god, cute.”

Justin laughed, “I knew you’d be great with Mr. Tallis.”

“I was amazing. That asshole didn’t know what hit him.” I leaned back on the couch and listened to him talk about the wonders of Hollywood.

“The air is so smoggy here, but it’s really great at night! Just like the movies! Oh! Yesterday we finished the costumes for JT and Rage! They look so awesome! There’s something so amazing about seeing your drawings come to life and-Brian?” 

“Hmmm?”

“I was just making sure you were still there.”

“I’m still here Sunshine.”


	4. Away from Home

Three months. Finally here. I get off the plane a week earlier than planned. I knew he wasn’t expecting me until next Friday, so I rented a car.  
I pulled his address out of my pocket and punched it into the courtesy GPS system of the domestic Ford explorer. 

As I pulled out of LAX, I noticed the smoggy air. Justin had been right about the polluted atmosphere, not that I didn’t remember from one of my past visits. I pulled out my $200 Prada sunglasses and started the approximately 20 minute drive, or so the GPS system estimated, to Justin’s temporary home.

I know you might think it’s all that romance bullshit that convinced me to come to LA a week earlier, or to come at all, to spend with him, and sure part of it was about the fact that no matter what I said or did, I still missed the little shit, but…well actually I guess that is the reason why I came. So yeah I admitted it, you can just shut the fuck up now. 

As I drive around I can feel the difference between dreary Pittsburgh and shiny LA. It reminds me of Justin and myself a bit. A huge contrast between Justin, and myself. Night and day.

I pull around a corner, deep within my thoughts and the GPS system says my destination is coming up on the right. I find a parking place and pull my bag out of the car. 

In one of our earlier phone calls, Justin had told me about this place. A semi-permanent place that Hollywood types put up guests for movie making, like Justin. There were several apartments and a manager. I pushed the door open and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dark room.

I saw a desk next to an elevator and headed to the receptionist. 

“Hello, welcome to Hollywood Host Homes. How can I help you?” The woman asked pleasantly. 

“uh…I’m here for Justin Taylor-“

Before Brian could finish the woman cut him off, “Mr. Taylor isn’t in right now, you may leave a message for him.”

“No. That won’t be necessary. I’m an out of town guest, visiting for the weekend, I just came a bit early.”

“Ah. Yes. Mr. Kinney?”

I nodded. The woman, Annette, her nametag read…was too sunny, too much like LA, not in that special way like Justin and it bothered me.

“Yes. Mr. Taylor wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

“I know. I said I came early. Look is there a way for you to let me into his apartment?”

“Just one moment, let me call the manager.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. 

A few minutes later, after Annette had checked my driver’s license and another ID, an older, round man walked into the lobby. He leaned over the counter and spoke with Annette for a moment and then came my way.

“Mr. Kinney?”

“Yes.”

“Martin Host.”

I thought about his last name and the name of the “host apartments.” Clever.

“Well let’s take you up to Mr. Taylor’s room.” Mr. Host said and called over an employee to carry my bag up to the 4th floor Justin was staying on.

“Here we are Mr. Kinney. Enjoy your stay with Mr. Taylor.” Mr. Host said, holding the door open for Brian and reached his other hand out.

Brian shook the mans hand, “I will.” he said, tongue-in-cheek, “I would like to ask you, not to tell Mr. Taylor that I have arrived.” Brian said, slipping the man a $50 bill.

“Certainly.” Mr. Host said and followed the bellboy down the hall.

Brian stepped in and took a look at the messy apartment. ‘oh yeah. This is his place.’ he thought. 

His artwork was everywhere; it looked more like a studio than a place to live, or rather stay temporarily. Brian took in his surroundings, noticed the little things of the artist’s streamed along the floor, and tables. 

But what Brian hadn’t expected was…all the art stuff. Brian knew that Justin was an artist, he knew he was good and he knew the he was here to make his art come to life. But somehow it never became a reality for Brian. Brian and Justin had more communication these past 2 years, but Justin’s art wasn’t usually a very big subject of conversation. Brian liked to look at Justin’s work, and every time he did, Brian felt….something. The kid’s art could stir a whirlwind of emotions inside you and leave you haunted by those feelings for days, or weeks. Lately Justin’s _art_ was put on hold for Rage. 

When Justin was in High School, he drew people, life, and especially Brian. After the bashing Justin’s art became angry and passionate. Then Justin and Michael started Rage, a different kind of creativity and art. For his underground rebellion against Stockwell, Justin created agitprop art to lead people away from electing the homophobe as Mayor, and Brian was proud of him And now everything was consumed by Rage, JT and Zephyr. Brian noticed this change and wished for the Justin that drew whatever popped into his mind. And here he was, in LA. Away from Brian and stuck in this little world the blonde had created for himself.

This angered Brian. Why couldn’t he be a part of this world? He wondered. Sure he was the subject of some of the drawings Brian found around the room, but not an actual part of **Justin’s** creative process. This Justin would get so aroused by creating art; Brian could watch him draw forever, or until he became just as aroused and had to act on it. Justin’s ears and face would flush red; his pink tongue would dart out while being incredible sure about where his next pencil stroke would go. 

Since the bashing, Justin could no longer sit for hours at a time doing this process, and it was far between if he tried. 

Brian pushed his stuff further into the messy room and cleared a spot for him, waiting for his blonde partner to come back to his apartment.

Brian sat in the apartment for 5 hours, before he heard the door unlock. 

By this time Brian was only clad in his underwear and walked through a doorway on the left of the front door.

Justin was talking on his cell phone, holding it up with his shoulder, a grocery bag in one hand and was struggling to pull the keys out of the door with the other, when he saw me stroll into the doorway.

“Did you bring any _real_ booze? This stuff is for shit.” I asked him.

Justin nearly had a heart attack, his eyes grew wide and dropped his cell phone as he squealed like a girl, “Brian?!?!”

I leaned down to pick up his cell phone and when I came back up I saw the man standing behind Justin.


	5. Away from Home

AN: Sorry it took so long to update. I bet you all thought I had forgotten about you. Weren’t you guy’s wrong? Sorry again. Life sucks. Let’s just leave it at that and move onto the b/j love! Sorry it’s so short. I promise to write more later.

* * *

“Brian?” Justin asked again, nervous about his lover’s stare at the man standing behind him. 

Finally Brian looked at Justin, “Didn’t you already fuck him?” he asked, ever the tactful one.

“Brian!” Justin scolded looking back at the man behind him. Conner James. The man who was playing Rage, and also was a _former_ bedmate of Justin’s-or so Brian thought until he saw Mr. James walking into Justin’s * temporary * home, with the resident himself. 

Justin turned to Conner, expecting a huge eruption from Brian that was sure to occur any second now, “Conner, maybe you’d better-“

“No. No. Don’t go. I’m sure I’ve interrupted some _very_ important plans, I’ll just…go do some work I brought with me.” Brian said and took off to the bedroom with a nod. 

Justin jumped when Brian slammed the door shut. “I’ll…be right back.” He offered Conner as he moved to follow Brian.

“What are you doing here?” Justin asked Brian, who was already sitting down in a chair in the corner of the room; sweat pants on and a file folder open. 

“Working.” Brian said, not looking up from the papers.

“You know what I mean. You weren’t supposed to be here until next week.” Justin said, sitting on the bed close to Brian. 

Brian sighed, “Aren’t you leaving your guest unattended too?” 

“Brian. I’m not fucking him.”

“I never said you were.”

“You don’t have to say it. Besides you did so.”

Brian looked up from his file and gave Justin a look that said it all. ‘It bothers me that you brought someone here, especially someone I know you’ve already fucked. It hurts me. I don’t really want to share you with anybody else, but I don’t have the ability to tell you.’

Justin made a move from the bed to the chair and pushed Brian’s file folder away as he sat in Brian’s lap. He leaned his head down and pulled Brian’s chin up to meet his full lips. At first the kiss was tentative. Brian was upset about Conner, not to mention months of separation. Not being able to kiss his blonde for that long…made the kiss a bit hesitant. But that lasted for only about 5 seconds, until they melted into one another. 

“I’ve missed you.” Justin said as he came up for air, placing his forehead on Brian’s. 

“Mmm.” Was the response from Brian, which earned him a shove and a ‘Brian!’ from his lover.

Brian chuckled and kissed Justin again, “I’ve missed you too. I thought three months would never be up.”

“I’m sure you found plenty of things to keep you busy.” Justin smirked.

Brian smirked back, but really there was nothing to be smirking about. Brian hadn’t really tricked more than a couple two or three times while Justin was away, but he never told the blonde that. Brian didn’t know why, but thought of his not tricking as a personal ‘accomplishment’ (for lack of a better term) and not something he had to share with his partner. Not yet at least. Besides work kept him too busy to do anything but sleep, eat, work and workout, not to mention the constant check ups at the hospital. 

“You should get back to your…guest.” Brian spoke up. 

“We just have some costume designs to look at. He’s trying to decide so I can let the costume department know to make some modifications. Why don’t you come look at them with us? And meet Conner formally.” Justin offered. 

Even though Justin was assistant art director on the movie, he was still the co-creator as well, which meant that Brett often asked him to use his knowledge of the characters for everything, including costumes. 

Brian allowed Justin to pull him into the living room of the small apartment and look at costume designs for the next hour. 

When Conner finally left, Brian and Justin had some lost time to make up for.


End file.
